


The Bigger They Are

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Fellatio, Flogging, Fluff, Orgasm Denial, Panties, Pet Names, Rimming, Sex, Smut, Sub!Dean, Teasing, dom!reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 23:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18860896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Dean has so much weighing him down and his only way to deal with it is to be tough and commanding in his day to day life. You’re the one thing keeping him from falling





	The Bigger They Are

He was close to snapping. You could see it in the way he moved, every muscle tense, his back stiff and his expression unchanging from grim determination. Dean wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he was on edge and losing his cool.

Watching from the table in the war room, you kept your legs propped on the lit-up map. Dean barked something at Jack and stormed off, leaving the kid almost in tears. Sam glanced at you, giving you a look you knew all too well - Dean needed a time-out.

Stood in the kitchen, shoulders hunched as he stood at the sink, Dean glared at the water like it had offended him. You sighed, walking up behind him, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Go shower, baby,” you whispered, kissing his shoulder.

“Not now,” he grunted and you frowned.

“Dean -”

The tension practically fell out of his posture; his shoulders slumped and his head dropped, his chin tucked into his chest. “I can’t, Y/N.”

“You need to.”

Dean sighed, shaking his head and you pushed at his waist, coaxing him to turn and face you. Reaching up, you cupped his face between your hand, running your thumbs across the few days’ worth of stubble.

“You  _ need _ to,” you murmured, rubbing your nose against his.

“Here?” he asked, lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Baby, it’s not -” Someone walked past the kitchen and Dean stiffened. “Private,” he finished, lowering his voice a little more. You smiled, tapping his cheek lightly.

“Let me deal with that,” you insisted. “Go and shower. Shave.” Your thumb scratched along his stubble. “As much as I love the caveman look, I want you smooth,” you lowered your voice, pushing up onto tiptoes to press your mouth against his ear, “all over, baby boy.”

A rattling moan passed his lips at the nickname and Dean’s head rested on your shoulder for a moment. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered back, dropping a kiss to your throat. “Anything else?”

You hummed, pulling back with a smile. “Put something on. Your choice. Whatever is most comfortable.”

Dean smiled, nodding obediently. “How long have I got?”

“As long as you need,” you replied, turning away. “Make sure you’re thorough.” His cheeks darkened in a blush that spread to the tips of his ears and you grinned, tapping his butt as you turned away. “Come to my room when you’re done.”

You didn’t wait for confirmation, heading down the hall to your room. Despite your close relationship, you didn’t share a living space; not that Dean wasn’t beside you every night. It was either your bed or his, whichever was closest most of the time.

Closing the door, you started rearranging the sheets on the bed and digging in your dresser for what you wanted. Dean needed to let go, to relinquish his iron-tight control for a few hours - you knew exactly how to do that.

Forty-five minutes later, a timid knock at the door made you look up from where you’d been lighting candles around the room. You’d set incense burning, the lavender scent that always seemed to relax him, even though he’d complain later it made every smell like old lady.

Dean was wearing his dead-guy robe, as he affectionately called it, hovering on the other side of your door nervously when you opened it. He smiled and you took his hand, tugging him inside and locking the door behind him.

Sniffing the air as you pulled him toward the bed, Dean glanced over at the incense and you grinned. “I know, I know,” you chided, “old lady smell.” His lips twitched in amusement; you drew him to a stop at the foot of the bed, his calves pressed against the mattress. “How are you feeling?”

Dean’s sigh was light but it gave you the answer before he spoke. “Better,” he admitted.

“See?” Wrapping the tie of his robe around your hand, you pulled, biting your bottom lip as the fabric came loose from his waist. “Huh. The pink?” He shifted under your gaze, his cheeks almost as pink as the satin panties barely covering his manhood.

“You like the pink,” Dean mumbled, ducking his head as you slipped one hand around the back of his neck. “The satin is comfortable -”

“Sssh,” you murmured, pressing your lips against his. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, baby.” Dean’s smile was small but there. “Why don’t you take this robe off and lay down for me?” Nodding, Dean moved to obey, hanging the dead-guy robe on the chair by your desk. You paused, taking a moment to admire his firm ass, cheeks separated by the thin strip of pink satin.

Crossing back to the bed, Dean climbed onto it, long legs folding out as he lay flat on his back, waiting for further instruction. Walking around the bed, you stripped your own clothing, stopping when you were clad in only your bra and panties.

Dean’s breath hitched in his throat but he didn’t move, laying prone with his hands above his head, crossed at the wrists. With a smile, you leaned over, tracing one finger over his flat nipple. “You’re such a good boy, Dean,” you murmured, seeing his cheeks darken at the praise.

There was no need to bind him. Dean’s frequent encounters with rope in his line of work left him wary of being completely bound. Once or twice, he’d allowed it but those scenes had been few and far between. You understood and accepted his limit - it meant that you got to watch him submit fully, and that was worth it.

“You’re already hard,” you whispered, dragging your hand from his chest down to the soft curls just above his cock. Following the trail down, your fingers pressed against the head of his dick, straining the pink fabric, a dark spot growing where his precum leaked from his slit. 

A low moan left his throat, making you grin.

“I told you, you needed it,” you chastised. “Maybe next time you won’t be so quick to brush me off.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean replied quietly, keeping his eyes on yours. “I won’t do it again.”

You remained quiet, slowly moving the tip of your finger along the underside of his shaft, watching it jump reflexively against the tight satin. “I’m going to have to punish you.” Moving back from the bed, you turned to the dresser where you’d laid out three implements - one he loved, one he took pleasure in but wasn’t overly fond of, and one he hated.

Sliding your fingers over the one he hated, you hummed thoughtfully. Dean watched you from the bed, chin held high, his cock throbbing in the panties.

Deciding on the middle option, you picked it up, carrying it over to the bed. Straddling Dean’s thighs, you tugged down the satin, letting his manhood spring free into your palm. He swallowed loudly as you slid the cock ring over his tip, rolling the tight coil down until it sat snug at the base.

“I know it’s not your favorite,” you whispered, “but as we haven’t had sex the last two nights, I think I’m gonna make this last.”

His lips twitched in a smile. “Thank you,” he murmured, dropping his head back onto the pillow.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you scolded, tucking his cock back away into the tight fabric and he grunted at the sudden constriction. “On your belly, pretty boy.” You climbed off, watching him roll onto his front, using his arms to position himself in the middle of the bed. His dick was obscured from this angle but the tension in his jaw as he laid his head to the side gave away how much the added pressure on his cock was affecting him.

The urge to rut against the mattress was difficult for him to ignore, so you waited, testing his limit. Dean’s body shook and his ass clenched; you released an involuntary groan at the way his defined cheeks almost bounced.

Turning away before your own resolve crumbled - it wouldn’t be the first time you’d given up and ridden him to both of your ends - you headed back to the dresser. Picking up his least favorite item, you grabbed the lubricant from beside it and turned back to him.

Dean couldn’t see what you were doing and had no idea of your plans as you straddled the backs of his thighs this time. When your fingers danced across his ass cheeks, he tensed for a split second before relaxing.

“Sssh,” you soothed. “I’ll be gentle.”

Placing the small red silicon plug on one side, you put the lube down for a moment, taking his ass in your hands and spreading his cheeks. Dean’s muffled whimper was accompanied by his head turning so his face was buried in the pillows.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, plucking the satin from between his cheeks and pulling it to one side, biting your bottom lip as Dean’s freshly shaved asshole puckered tightly. He shook his head, lifting it to gasp out a no. “Good boy.”

Grabbing the lube again, you coated your thumb in the smallest amount, pressing it against his ass. Dean jumped in surprise before relaxing into the mattress once more, lifting himself on his elbows so he could breathe properly.

“That’s it,” you cooed, smiling at his obedience. Your thumb slipped deeper and he groaned, his hips rolling gently in a reflex to the intrusion. Allowing it to pass, you pressed in again until your thumb was buried up to the knuckle and Dean was starting to pant.

Slowly, you withdrew, pushing in again when the tip of your thumb was almost free. Dean groaned this time, his head dropping, giving you a view of his sculpted shoulders and back. You picked up the pace, opening him up until you were satisfied he would be comfortable.

“You know,” you muttered, picking up the plug and squirting a tip of lube onto the rounded tip. “For someone who hates the plug, you do writhe like such a little slut when you’re threatened with it.” Dropping the bottle back to the bed, you pressed the tip of the plug where your thumb had been only seconds before. 

With only a little pressure, the plug slid into place, the flared base holding it snug inside him - Dean’s toes curled, his thighs flexing underneath you.

“How’s that, baby boy?” you purred, firmly grasping his cheeks again, squeezing them.

“Feels good,” Dean gasped. There was sweat starting to bead between his freckled shoulders, his muscles twitching with the pleasure of his erection grinding against the bed and the plug sitting snug against his prostate.

Moving back, you patted his calf. “Spread your legs.”

Dean obeyed, giving you a splendid view of his cock and balls, crushed into the mattress. You imagined the wet spot underneath him, knowing that his dick was hard and leaking. The thought made you smile as you settled yourself between his legs, laying your hands on his delectable ass again to slide his thong down and discard it.

Grazing your thumb over the flat end of the plug, you tapped it, smirking when Dean hiccuped a little whine. “Do you want my tongue, pretty boy?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, “please.”

You moved so you could get at him, tickling the tip of your tongue over his perineum. He mewled again, his breathing gaining pace - you kept focusing on the same spot, feeling the vibration of his body at the teasing.

Lifting your hand, you returned it to his ass, gently pressing against the plug again. Dean’s butt wiggled in response, his hips rising slightly, enough for you to swipe your tongue underneath his balls, feeling the pounding of his blood through the thin skin there. He sucked in a breath as you dragged your tongue up, teasing it around the edge of the plug, provoking a low moan from the prone hunter.

“You like that, then?” you teased, smiling and licking at him again. Dean gasped out a  _ yes _ , and you continued, feeling him reflexively grind his cock into the mattress. The plug dug in deeper as your nose pressed into it and when a high-pitched whimper reached your ears, you pulled away.

Running your hands over his ass, you hummed happily, feeling the tension below his skin, the way his muscles coiled with the tension of his withheld release.

“You’ve been such a good boy, Dean. But I have to punish you.” He didn’t answer - you didn’t expect him to. Climbing off of the bed, you headed back to the dresser, grabbing the last item.

The flogger was small, four inches of thick leather for a handle, carved with intricate swirls, with a handful of thin leather straps. Each strap was around eight inches long and you knew how it felt when it sang across your skin.

Deciding that he was suitably positioned, you approached the bed, letting Dean see what you were holding. His shoulders tensed a little more, this time from excitement. When you trailed the edges of the leather straps along his thigh, he shuddered and you knew he was trying to keep himself quiet.

The first hit bounced off of his ass, leaving thin red lines across each cheek and Dean’s grunt was muffled by the pillow. You struck him again, in the same spot, smiling when the plug twitched in his ass, his tight ring contracting around it.

“Thirty minutes and you haven’t asked to cum yet,” you praised, watching the tips of his ears turn pink. His neck was flushed, sweat covering every inch of him - you dragged the flogger over the curve of his butt, down to his legs. The next hit landed on his left thigh, more red lines springing up on his skin. “You’re being such a good boy tonight.”

“Thank you,” he hummed, lifting his head a little.

You answered his thanks with a harsh strike and Dean’s head dropped back down, his breathing heavier as he tried not to move. His thigh was a pretty shade of pink but you were never one to leave things uneven.

By the time his right thigh was the same shade, Dean was panting heavily, clutching the pillows with his hands. You paused, smirking at his disheveled state, wondering if he’d had enough.

“Turn over,” you ordered and he obeyed, rolling onto his back and shifting back into the middle of the bed. His hands shook as he raised them above his head, crossing them at the wrists like before. 

Like this, laid out and strung out, cock throbbing an angry purple with the cockring holding back his climax - Dean Winchester was a work of art. Despite everything he was outside your bedroom, all the fear he struck in the hearts of creatures and monsters alike, when it came down to this… he was entirely yours.

Kneeling on the edge of the bed, you discarded the flogger, reaching behind yourself to unhook your bra. Dean’s eyes rolled toward you and widened, tongue darting out to wet his plump lips.

“Do you want to serve me, Dean?”

“Yes,” he replied automatically, keeping his gaze on you as you stripped out of your panties.

“How do you want to serve me?”

“Wanna make you cum.”

Your weight dipped the mattress as you crawled toward him, hovering over his waist. Glancing down at his cock, you smiled, lowering your head to lap at the leaking tip. “How?” Bestowing another lick to his crown, you hummed against his over-sensitized flesh and Dean groaned.

“With my tongue,” he stuttered, pressing his head into the pillows. You kept working your tongue along his shaft until you reached the cockring at the base.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”

“I always want to fuck you,” Dean drawled, clasping the bedcovers at either side of his body. His reply made you chuckle; you wrapped your fingers around his cock, pumping it slowly. “But I wanna taste you,” he finished, barely able to form the words.

Releasing your hold, you moved until you were straddling his waist, smiling down at him. “You wanna taste me?” Dean nodded, keeping his hands above his head. “Well,” you purred, leaning down to kiss him softly, “I’m never one to refuse your wicked mouth.”

His lips curled upwards in a smile as you climbed off, laying back and spreading your thighs. Dean didn’t need further instruction, positioning himself between your legs until his tongue was pressed against your clit.

You were already soaked and Dean groaned at your taste, sliding his hands under your ass as you reached down and slipped your fingers through his short hair. It was messed up from where he’d squirmed and in your opinion, Dean had the  _ sexiest _ bed-hair.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, looking up at you with a darkened gaze that made you shudder, your pussy clenching in response to his touch. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, which buttons he needed to press to get you off and he enjoyed doing it.

“That’s it,” you gasped, “right there.” He knew it, of course, but Dean’s praise kink ran a mile wide. His fingers gripped your ass as he worked harder, making your gasps turn into moans. “Such a good boy, Dean. Make me cum, baby.”

His answering growl vibrated against your cunt and you cried out, feeling one of his hands move. In the next second, he was pressing two digits into you, curling them in just the right way to seek out your sweet spot. The intense sensation made your hips buck and you tugged his hair, letting him know that he was doing good but words weren’t an option.

Your climax came with the same steady throb that had been present since you’d ordered him to shower. Dean was fucking his fingers into you now, pushing you higher and higher until the pressure in your belly broke the dam. He lapped up your juices as if he couldn’t live without them, not stopping until your body went lax, tremors shuddering through your limbs as you fell back into yourself.

With one final lick, Dean kneeled upright, panting for breath, his chin glistening with your cum. “Thank you,” he murmured and you smiled, reaching for him.

“C’mere,” you whispered and he did as ordered, crawling up over you. Reaching between your bodies, you found his cock thick and leaking against your thigh; Dean moaned when your fingers pressed into the cockring, sliding it back up his swollen length. “You can fuck me now,” you instructed.

Dean didn’t wait - the second you tossed the ring away, he lined up and sank into you, groaning in completion as he pillowed his head between your breasts. Peppering your skin with kisses, he murmured his adoration in a low enough tone that you couldn’t quite grasp the words but you knew what he wanted to convey.

“Keep going.” You returned your hands to his hair, stroking through as he fucked you, hands holding your ass several inches off of the bed. He was hunched over you, his desperate, short thrusts forcing the tip of his cock to kiss your cervix on every stroke. “You can cum, baby,” you hummed, your voice catching as the embers in your belly started to burn brighter.

With a sharp nod, Dean started to move faster. His hands clawed at your ass as he reached his peak, shuddering against you but not stopping his frantic thrusting as he spilled inside you. 

You came with him, fingers buried in his hair, dragging him up to kiss him hard, swallowing down his drawn-out groan.

When he finally stopped moving, barely holding his weight off of your smaller frame, Dean broke the kiss, looking down at you with a smile on his face.

“I don’t know how I got lucky enough to find you,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the corner of your mouth, “but remind me to thank whoever set it up.” Leaning down, he nuzzled against your throat, humming happily as you kept stroking his hair, messing it up more. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”


End file.
